


Let it go

by Likiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crying!Dean, Drama, Gen, Heartbreak, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likiel/pseuds/Likiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU following 8.06, Sam was right about one thing, Dean didn’t need a penny to say and mean what he said. <br/>Alone, in his car and on an empty road, the oldest Winchester found the courage to take a deep look inside himself and seek the answers he desperately wanted to find. <br/>Why did Sam left him to die? And more importantly what was he supposed to do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it go

Title : Let it go  
Author : likiel  
Beta : firesign10  
Words: 4070  
Rating/Warning : G / spoilers all way through season eight  
Summary : AU following 8.06, Sam was right about one thing, Dean didn’t need a penny to say and mean what he said. Alone, in his car and on an empty road, the older Winchester found the courage to take a deep look inside him and seek the answers he desperately wanted to find. Why did Sam left him to die? And more importantly what was he supposed to do?

 

 

They drove away from the town in a cold and complete silence. Once Dean shut the door and started the car, he shut himself in as well, locking his mind and soul in the depths of his dark musing. He didn’t even start the radio, letting the familiar rumble of the Impala suffice. He didn’t hear anything; not the traffic, not Sam’s breathing next to him, not even his own heartbeat. He saw the road unwinding in front of them, looking endless and empty. He saw the sky - no rain, no stars, the night like a torrent of black ink, thick and indelible.

Dean saw no way to fix himself. Not this time . . . maybe not ever.

For as long as he could remember, he tried to keep Sam close. Close to the family, or the notion of it anyway: close to their father, when the man was around; close to their mother, when her memory didn’t make Dean want to crawl into his bed and cry; close to the hunt, with the gratification of saving people’s lives. Above all, Dean wanted Sam close to him, his offering to his little brother: the mom Sam will never know, the dad John failed to be, the best friend Sam was yet to find, and the protector Sam didn’t think he needed.

He tried so hard to be what Sam needed him to be, what John forced him to be, that it become the very definition of who he was. Without it, Dean didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He accepted that knowledge about himself a long time ago, probably at same moment he sold his soul for his brother.  
Dean felt his eyes prickle with unshed hot tears. He gritted his teeth in response and tightened his hold on the wheel.

Dean hadn’t had any trouble selling his soul for his brother because from the age of four, he never valued his own life the same way he valued Sam’s. Sam always came first to Dad and to Dean. It was just how Dean's mind worked. It had made sense in his young mind because Sammy was just a baby - he never knew mom and he never had a real house. Then later, as Dean got older, there was some resentment, struggle and guilt, but he made peace with it. He relished the pride and affection he felt towards the kid he practically raised.

Since then, all Dean did was to put Sam's needs first. Dean was not going to lie to himself; he didn’t often give to Sam what he wanted. Sometimes he couldn’t. But he always gave Sam what he needed. Dean knew the difference. He couldn’t give Sam a year in the same town when they were younger, because Dad would never go for it. He was able, though, to convince his Dad to let Sam study more than train, and he watched the happiness spread onto his brother’s face.

Dean had always cared for Sam’s happiness. Always. Even after Flagstaff, even after Stanford. Even after Ellicott. Even after Ruby and the demon blood.  
But he guessed that somewhere along the road, he started wishing that Sam would care about Dean's happiness just a little. He guessed that’s where things started to get beyond screwed.

“Hey, there’s a motel sign on your left. Stop here.”

Sam’s voice was clipped and controlled, a sure sign that he was still pissed and that he thought he had every right to be.

The burn Dean was feeling behind his eyes doubled and he felt his insides churn and twist. The familiar sensation was following by the pounding of his heartbeat. His hands on the wheel trembled slightly as he pulled over in the motel's parking lot. The car hadn't even stopped yet before Sam was already getting out. As Dean turned off the ignition, Sam had his bag in hand and was walking steadily towards the motel.

 _He can’t get away from you fast enough,_ Dean thought, as the lump inside his throat turned painful. It certainly wasn’t the first time that he had those kinds of thoughts about Sam, but it was the first time he didn’t immediately tamp them down. It was also the first time he could see some truth in them.

Dean got out of the car but didn’t take his bag out. He watched as Sam came back with the room keys, then he cleared his throat. He was proud that his voice didn’t waver.  
“I’m gonna take the car for a walk, see what’s around a little bit.”

He almost said “don’t wait up” but caught the words right on time. Sam scoffed, tossed him his set of keys, and promptly walked back to the motel without a single glance or word.

Dean waited until his brother was out of sight before climbing back into his baby. By the time he had pulled the car out of the lot, hot tears had made their way down his cheeks.  
The more he drove, the more upset Dean become. He tried to stifle his sobs at first before he realized that nobody could hear him. The moment he let out his sorrow was like the prelude to an avalanche. Harsh gasps made breathing painful as he cried harder than he could ever remember; furious tears running down his red face and open mouth. He hiccupped once and ran a hand over his eyes before slamming it on the wheel. More tears fell after that, until he was downright bawling like the grieving man with a broken heart he was.

The impala started to slide sideways, and when Dean almost ran into an oncoming truck, he decided to pull over. He stopped the car at the side of the road and watched others coming and going until the road was as empty as he felt.

Dean did remember what he said while he was holding the cursed penny. At least Sam was right about this; he meant every word of it. But he was surprised at himself for still harboring some grudges about the past. Dean really had thought he was over it - over Ruby, the demon blood and the soulless act. He guessed it all came back after Sam left him to die. Dean was just so tired of forgiving Sam over and over again; he felt that when he did forgive Sam, it was as if he gave Sam a free pass to screw him over once more.

The hunter closed his eyes and tried to sort out his thoughts. Now was the time to be honest with himself, completely and utterly honest. No matter how hard some truths were.  
What happened with Ruby, the apocalypse and all that mess? Dean had forgiven Sam for it. He had - how could he not - when his brother sacrificed his life and damned himself for a century inside Lucifer’s cage? Sam redeemed himself that day, and even if watching him jump into that hole was one of the worst moments of Dean’s life, he had never been so proud of his brother.

If Dean hadn’t forgiven Sam for choosing Ruby over him, he wouldn’t have endured Lucifer’s iron fists raining down on his face. He wouldn’t have spent that whole year at Lisa’s, living but not alive, sleeping but not rested, and researching _every single day_ for a way to get Sam out of the devil’s cage.

Then he learned that he didn’t have to search anything, since Sam - or rather Sam’s body - was topside and killing his way through life under the tutelage of that bastard, Samuel. Rationally, Dean knew that he couldn’t put all the shit soulless-Sam did on his brother. But as Bobby so helpfully pointed out more than once, soulless-Sam was Sam, or at least a part of him. He was just a part that didn’t care because he literally couldn’t. Dean remembered wondering back then that if soulless-Sam chose to leave Dean behind because he _couldn’t care_ , what did that say about the real Sam, who left him behind so many times when he _could care?_

Dean hadn’t had the courage back then to dwell on that thought, and he'd let it go. He realized now that maybe he shouldn’t have done it that way; maybe he would have seen what was happening in front of him right away?

He forgave Sam for choosing Ruby over him. He forgave Sam for drinking demon blood, and he thought he forgave Sam’s soulless period.

But Dean never said he forgot about all those things.

He couldn’t forget, and as sad as it was to say, it was more for self-protection than to punish Sam. The choices Sam made in the past were a part of who his brother was, just like his sacrifice for the world was a part of who he was. Dean had always made the mistake of ignoring certain aspects of his brother’s personality, and that oversight had always cost him dearly. That was the attitude that allowed events like Flagstaff and Stanford to happen. Don’t get him wrong, Dean was proud that Sam got a full ride scholarship to college, but he had wished like hell it didn’t happen the way it did.

Even if his beef was with Dad, Sam still never called Dean during those two years. He never answered his phone either. He just acted like his brother didn't exist. Like hunting never existed. Maybe that should have been Dean’s first clue.

Tiredly, Dean got out of his car and sat on the hood, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. He raised his head towards the sky, momentary forgetting that it held no stars tonight. He sighed.

As Dean searched his heart, he could honestly say that there were two things he couldn’t forgive Sam for. The first was Sam’s version of Heaven.

It had been a revelation to Dean, a dramatic turn in his life. Seeing Sam's heaven changed both how he viewed Sam and how he viewed himself. There isn’t a bigger betrayal than to realize that the person you loved the most, the person you had always put first, cherished the worst moments of your life. Their time in heaven had killed something inside of Dean. He had felt like the fool Sam often made him feel like since they got back on the road - as if everything he had done since he was four was a huge and laughable waste of time.

Throwing the amulet away was never a choice he regretted. Yes, he hurt his brother by doing it (or so he thought), but at that moment, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t about Sam’s feelings or Sam’s needs. It was about _him_ , Dean, and the sheer agony he felt as he started to really question if Sam cared about him at all. With the seed of doubt plaguing his every thought, throwing the amulet away had been the first, sure step toward protecting himself.

Dean often wondered if Sam was truly glad that he came back from hell. Of course, he knew that his brother was happy to see him alive and well, or as well as he could be. As the weeks turned into months, though, and Sam's irritation over Dean always driving the Impala, or choosing the motel, or leading the cases, became more blatant, and Dean’s self-doubts didn't seem so unfounded anymore.

What hurt the most was the way Sam disregarded his confessions of his time in hell. Dean never forgot it, but he never talked about it again. Actually, it was at that moment that Dean stopped sharing with Sam when he hurt, and chose the self-destructive way instead. Bobby’s death was a great example of it. But even though Dean didn’t feel like he could trust Sam with his emotions, he never once thought that it meant something was wrong in their relationship. If anything, Dean simply thought that something was wrong with him. That should have been his second clue.

Even if Dean wasn’t sure he could trust Sam with his heart, he had tried to believe Sam had his back. After Ruby, Sam had worked his ass off for that trust, and eventually Dean had trusted Sam again, despite the soulless asshole letting him get turned into a vampire. Dean remembered Sam’s face after they walked out of the hospital, when Dean told him that he didn’t think he could trust him anymore. Sam had almost looked surprised. Dean remembered thinking _“how can you look like that? You think you can just beat me down over and over again and I would just take it? How much do you think I can take, Sam?”_

And that should have been Dean’s third clue. If after that, Sam still thought that Dean was going to be angry but not hurt; if Sam thought that no matter what, Dean would give and give and give - his trust, his heart, his shoulders and back for Sam to stomp on after wearing them all down - then yes, Dean did do something wrong during all those years, and he had failed as a big brother.

All those reasons were why Sam's not bothering to look for Dean after he disappeared was the second thing Dean couldn’t forgive Sam for. And probably never would.

  
 _“What did I do to deserve this”?_ was pretty much the only thought plaguing Dean’s mind ever since Sam confessed his inaction. Oh, Dean knew that he wasn’t without faults.

These last eight years, he had lied to his brother more than he had during their entire life. But damn if Sam hadn't matched lie for lie. Dean had concealed Dad’s last words because, after everything that had gone down between him and Sam, he was really apprehensive about Sam’s reaction to it. Plus, how could Dad have asked him to do something like that? Save Sam or kill him? How about try to help him? Isn’t that what his father always drilled in his head - be here for Sam, watch out for Sam, try and help Sam? Why the sudden change of heart? At the time, Sam already thought he was the next Darth Vader, and Dean didn’t want to add fuel to that fire.

Dean sold his soul because he loved Sam. It wasn’t about Dad and it wasn’t about guilt. He honestly thought Sam would be able to move on. He did before, starting a new life at college. Dean honestly thought that there was no contest between his life and Sam’s. But Sam's effort to save him, Dean could see now, was not based on love, it was about fear. Fear of what Sam would become, what he would turn into without Dean to stop it. Fear and guilt. Sam never dealt well with guilt. His habit was to run away from it.

Dean had lied about soulless Sam’s whereabouts because he didn’t want to hurt Sam. More than anything, Dean was downright terrified that the slightest information could break the wall Death made. Sam’s facial expression when he learned the truth had been enough to prove Dean right. So was the seizure Sam suffered a week later.

Dean killed Amy because he believed it was the right thing to do. She would have killed again, he knew that for sure. You don’t think of anyone else when your kid is on the verge of dying. You only think of healing him, no matter what it takes. Dean knew that better than anyone. He hadn't said anything to Sam about it, and he had been wrong. He knew that too. But quite frankly, he couldn’t bring himself to speak of it. Sam was doing well, despite the wall being smashed into pieces and Dean didn’t want to mess with that. Most of all, he just didn’t want his brother mad at him. He didn’t want Sam leaving him just because Dean did the right thing. But that happened, and Sam left. Dean wasn’t even surprised this time, but he did held a load of remorse about lying to Sam, and the drinking and non-sleeping he went through during that time was proof enough.

When he thought about it, Dean could truthfully say that, more often than not, when he lied to his brother it was more to protect Sam than himself. Until Benny. But Benny didn’t have anything to do with Sam abandoning Dean to his fate in purgatory, and in Dean’s eyes, it certainly didn’t justify anything, far from it. _So why did Sam leave him behind?_

In some fundamental regards, being a hunter was a lot like being a soldier. And Dean knew that you didn’t stop looking for a soldier in the battlefield until you were sure that he was dead. Sam hadn’t known if Dean was dead. But he was so quick to assume it, so quick to turn his back on the hunt even when it meant giving up on having his brother back. He didn’t try to look for a way. He just ran and never looked back, found a chick and played house with her. It was the very thing he wanted Dean to do before he jumped into the pit, and the very thing Dean hated doing. In the end, it had been unfair to him, to Lisa and to Ben.

Dean was starting to see things clearer now, and ironically his eyes were full of tears.

He always knew Sam resented him for dragging him back to hunting. It had been so obvious the first year they were reunited; it had been there in the constant complaints about the car, the motel, the food. It had been there in the not-so-playful jibes about Dean’s intelligence, his skills and his way of living. It had been there in the contemptuous rants and stony looks about Dean’s respect for Dad.

But Dean pretty much endured it all because it was worth having Sam here again, having his family back with him again. What he didn’t get back then, was that Sam didn’t want all of that. He never wanted it. For him, family equaled hunting. How it could not, after the way he was raised? Hunting equaled sacrifices; hand-me-down clothes, dirty motels, an absentee father, a dead mother, no stability, and Dean. Dad knew that about Sam.

Dean had tried to make it better and stayed sane by being in denial for years, enough time for Sam to entertain some hard feelings towards him. Sam resented that Dean had dragged Sam all over the country, whereas Dean clearly loved hunting, loved saving people and loved Dad.

Dean had always been so different from his brother, but they both never really accepted that, had they? In some ways they both had been hypocrites about each other - Sam for denying that he resented Dean and Dean for denying what Sam really wanted.

The hunter closed his eyes and let fresh, new tears fall gently down his cheeks. He gathered his courage to speak the truth he finally found after looking inside himself. He worked past the lump in his throat and opened his mouth. When he spoke, his voice was hushed and defeated.

“Sam didn’t look for me because he didn’t want to.”

That single phrase made him flinch and more tears fall out, as if they were in a hurry to leave the anguish inside of Dean.

“For him, and after everything he went through with Lucifer inside of his head, it… it wasn’t worth it. I just wasn’t _worth it._ ”

Dean stood up abruptly and started to pound his fists on the hood of the Impala, relishing the pain that made his hands throb.

“He chose to believe I was dead, because if he had to look for me, he would have had to give up on the freedom he suddenly had! No hunting, no killing, no family - that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it you **son of bitch!”**

Dean hit the Impala so hard that his right fist started to bleed, but he didn’t stop and slammed it on the hood again and again, until no one would have recognized his screams of pain from his screams of rage. When he finally stopped, he slid onto the ground and sat against the car, head hanging on his chest.

All his life, he tried to hold on to Sam. He realized now that it was hopeless. Worse yet, his actions had created this situation. He gave everything to his little brother - his love, his protection, his support, his life and soul - and Sam grabbed for it all. Sam took everything and disregarded Dean while doing it, simply because Dean had never expected Sam to do otherwise. Until one day he did. “It’s my fault,” Dean murmured while scrubbing his uninjured hand over his face.

Now Dean had given until there was nothing left to give.

Well, no more.

Sam thought that just because Dean had hidden Benny’s existence from him, that what Sam did simply could be considered as another mistake his brother would have to put behind them. But Dean didn’t felt that way, and Sam… Sam couldn’t just _threaten_ him to leave because Dean couldn’t get past the fact that his brother left him to die.

_Move on or I will._

Dean stood up, his swollen, red eyes fixed on the empty road. He had made his decision. As he climbed into his car and turned the keys, a bitter and ironic expression crossed his face.

It still didn’t matter what he felt, because what he was about to do would bring Sam what he _needed_. And Dean _always_ gave him what he needed.

 

+++

Dean didn’t pull into the motel’s parking lot. Instead, he parked the car one mile away and walked the rest until he reached the front desk. A woman in her middle fifties greeted him with a concerned look and a gentle smile. Dean figured he must really look like crap.

“Good evening, sir, what can I do for you? Something tells me you ain’t here for a room?”

Dean gave her what he hoped was a convincing smile before answering.

“Well, something is right then. I… I have a message to give to one of your customers, Sam Hanson? He signed up for a double bed room, two hours ago.”

“Hah yeah, room 17.”

“Ok, do…do you have paper and a pen, please?”

“Sure, sweetie, here. And you might want to wrap that hand up, it’s bleeding.”

“Oh… yeah. Thank you.”

Dean nodded at the woman as she moved away to give him privacy to write his note. He stared at the dirty old page for three full minutes before he started to write.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dean finished the note and winced as the pain of his bleeding hand came back with a throbbing vengeance. He folded the note in half and walked towards the lady, asking her to give it to Sam in the morning. She nodded at him and promised. Dean could see her worried frown deepening as she watched his red-rimmed eyes. This time he didn’t even attempt a smile as he left the motel, walking slowly, each step harder than the one before.

As he walked back to his car, he thought about what was left to do. Calling Benny to warn him to lay low was the easiest task.

Then his own path would begin; not Sam and Dean’s, not Sam’s, just Dean’s. He wasn’t about to quit hunting, not when they were so close to locking those demon bitches in hell forever. He would do what he had to do.

 

But nobody said he had to do it from this world.

+++

 

Find this fic on [my livejournal.](http://likiel.livejournal.com/15871.html)

**Author's Note:**

> Author note: Ok, First of all, I'm not a Dean-girl or a Sam-girl, I guess you can say that I'm a boys-girl? Yep, that's right! I really love them both. Very much. and what's why what is happening between them is killing me. Season eight's start? Sam not even trying to look for Dean? It was a like a huge hole through my heart, seriously. I wrote this fic in a clear and objective mind, free of anger towards any of the brother, after reflecting hard and having a immense look-over on Sam and Dean's relationship since season one. 
> 
> Like my lovely beta firesign10 (whom I love very much and thank you, thank you for beta'd my fic BB, you rock!) said, I nailed many issues here, issues that had corrupted the brothers's relationship and I did try to take everything in count when I treat Dean's POV on Sam's attitude. Keep in mind that this is Dean's POV, which means that in his current upset set of mind, Sam's behavior can really be defended.
> 
> But, I was thinking that maybe (with the adequate motivation, read: lot a review) I will write a sequel of this, about what Dean is gonna do and Sam's reaction to Dean leaving and the note.
> 
> I hoped you didn't cry too much or punch a hole after reading this. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Kiss,
> 
> Erin.


End file.
